The Opposite House: A Novel — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 The Opposite House. tant main street echoed the dull rumble of swiftly moving vehicles. Gertrude’s eyes, glittering with the light of fever, were fixed steadily upon the dark oaken door; her restless gaze constantly wandered over the carved figures, counting the interwoven balls and flowers until they danced confusedly before her, and changed into all the strange shapes which the fan- tastic fingers of fever can paint. “Not yet—not yet!” she moaned, turning her face, whose cheeks glowed with an ominous flush, upon the cool pillows. ‘Oh, God, why dost Thou inflict this pang upon my dying hour?” She raised herself excitedly. The terrible cough again attacked her weak chest, making her gasp for air and breath. At last the paroxysm passed away. “Go, Gretlis, go,’’ she whispered faintly ; and the old servant covered her tearful eyes with her hand, and pleaded : “You ought not to be alone, Frau Gertrude. Let me stay until he comes!” The sick woman laughed almost bitterly. “Until he comes! But listen, Gretlis. Never desert him, whatever happens. Watch over him, guard him, be a second mother to my boy. And over yonder—you know, Gretlis, the house with the gray escutcheon—say nothing to him about it, but Comicbooolk<s